


Infiltration Agents Are Just Character Actors With No Backstage

by VigilantShadow



Category: The Secret World
Genre: Gen, New Dawn Spoilers, The Morninglight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-25
Updated: 2018-03-25
Packaged: 2019-04-08 03:51:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14096601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VigilantShadow/pseuds/VigilantShadow
Summary: The Sumerians are sent to infiltrate The Morninglight compound in South Africa. Inanna tries to mock Shamash. Shamash gets just a little too in to it. Gilgamesh pursues the path of least resistance. Ninshubur just wants some soothing Aloe lotion.





	Infiltration Agents Are Just Character Actors With No Backstage

“They want us to go...undercover?” Gilgamesh asked, looking distinctly unimpressed. Inanna frowned, trying to look even _more_ unimpressed. She couldn’t be shown up by her field partner, after all.

“Yep!” Shamash smiled as he said it, the bastard. He looked elated at the prospect, even more than he usually did, his ruby eyes sparkling even more than his perfectly straight teeth. “Higher-ups say that The Morninglight is inviting some members of the Big Three to New Jerusalem.”

“So…not really _undercover_ ,” Inanna interrupted.

“Oh, no, they didn’t invite us. They invited some other guys. But they’re _expecting_ those guys to be snooping around, so The Board wants us going in as randos to find all the secrets that Marquard is keeping from the spies that he _knows_ are there. We’re getting a lot of free rein here, though. The three of us are going in separately, we’re gonna have to pretend we don’t know each other, -“

“I changed my mind, I love this plan,” Inanna said flatly. Shamash ignored her, but she caught the flash of hurt there. Good.

“Anyway, you’ll be picking your own disguises. Get an outfit together by tomorrow, and then we’ll meet back here to discuss our plans for getting into the compound and then meeting up discreetly once we’re inside. Good luck!”

Inanna rolled her eyes and vacated his office. She hadn’t gotten enough sleep to deal with Shamash. Or had enough to drink. As much as the oversized golden retriever had grown on her over the past few months, and as much as she could secretly admit deep down inside her cold, black, bitchy heart that she might have found his energy endearing under different circumstances, she couldn’t deal with him like this.

 _Endearing,_ she thought as she headed toward the exit of The Labyrinth to go find some decent coffee. She smiled, visibly startling the two agents standing guard by the door. That gave her an idea.

Inanna settled onto the couchin Shamash’s office. Shamash himself hadn’t yet arrived, but the door opened only a moment later to reveal Gilgamesh. He was dressed the same as usual, and seemed smug about it right up until he caught what she was wearing.

“What the actual fuck?” He asked, dumbfounded. Score one for her.

“I was thinking about what sort of people cults go after, and I realized that they like to prey on the innocent and defenseless. So I thought _what do naïve children dress like_ , and then went shopping for clothes I thought Shamash would think looked good.”

The door opened at that moment, and Shamash walked in, grinning.

“You know,” he said, “I think you meant that as an insult, but I’m not even offended. That’s such a cute outfit! Though,” he frowned briefly, tapping his chin, “it could use some more colorful shoes. Ooh! Or maybe floral print skinny jeans! That would be perfect!” He must have seen her face, because he smiled reassuringly again, “but baby steps, baby steps. So, uh, Gilgamesh! You look…the same…bold choice, bold choice. Uh, what are you two staring at?”

 _What the fuck?_ Inanna thought, gaping at Owen’s outfit.

“What the fuck?” Gilgamesh asked, out loud.

Shamash was dressed…distinctly un-Shamash-like. Gone were the pastel shirts and neon pants, the spiked-up blue hair that he insisted was natural. In its place was a pair of black pants and a white shirt, top button undone and black tie askew. A pair of square-rimmed glasses sat on his nose, barely masking the bags under his dark green eyes, and his hair had been slicked back into a style Inanna would have called attractive on literally anyone else. Okay, maybe it was attractive anyway, but she refused to even acknowledge that thought.

“I put myself into the same mind frame as Inanna and asked, you know, what do cults look for in new members? Sad people! And, well. You know how my cover as a recruiter is a talent scout? Well, before this all happened, I was going to be an actor, and while I was thinking about what sort of cover to go with I realized I missed _acting._ So I decided to go with something a bit out there.” Shamash set down a black briefcase that Inanna hadn’t realized he had been carrying and pulled a file folder out of it. From inside of it, he produced what appeared at first to be one of his expense reports but which she soon realized was a very hefty profile on one Ewan Mansell.

“Anyway,” he continued, smiling crookedly in a way that looked a lot more ruggedly charming when he wasn’t dressed like a buffoon, “I may have overdone it on the profile. But I thought…can’t be too prepared!” Gilgamesh stood and took the folder, returning to the couch and shifting it over so Inanna could also read. “So, how are you guys going to be getting in?”

“Uh,” Gilgamesh mumbled, unable to take his eyes off the _way too detailed_ document. “I was going to be honest, you know. Say ‘I’m in the Illuminati, but it kind of sucks sometimes.’ Which. It sort of does, so saying that won’t even be hard. I figure they’d be interested in a defector.”

“I like it! Very minimalistic!”

“And I was going to loiter at the mall like teenagers do and then go visit The Morninglight booth that always sets up there,” Inanna said, still reading the profile. _Busy parents, so raised by his Irish grandmother. Most likely to succeed in high school, but then became a middle-grade salaryman who could not advance. Recently widowed._

“Cool! Well, I was thinking I’d go to one of the bars Morninglight recruits at and look sad until one of them tries to talk to me! They’ll have to approach eventually, right? I’m going to be looking _really_ sad.”

Inanna narrowed her eyes skeptically. Was that seriously his plan? It was even worse than Gilgamesh’s. Inanna mentally crossed Shamash off the list of on-the-ground resources that she’d have at the compound. Which was annoying, since they might need someone that actually _enjoyed_ dealing with strangers, but if he was going to be like _this…_

“Anyway, since we’ve got our covers, higher ups say we’re off active duty until we get picked up for this job. So just, uh, go about the lives that your covers would, and when we get to the inside we’ll try to all meet up inside the compound.” He produced two more pieces of paper from the file and handed them to Gilgamesh and Inanna. “Those are the only overhead maps we have…sorry they’re blurry, but they’ve got something blocking our satellites. We’ll be trying to meet in Compound D, which seems to be an arrival area. Pretend we’re meeting for the first time, and then we’ll use standard shorthand to decide on our next rendezvous.” Shamash’s smile got somehow even wider. “Man, I can’t wait to see you all in action!” With that, ignoring that this was his own office and he was usually a bit put off by them being in there without him, Shamash left.

Inanna turned to Gilgamesh.

“I…I hate that.”

Gilgamesh nodded, somehow understanding what she meant.

“He’s so…”

“Handsome.”

“I was going to say normal.”

“I mean, that too, but he’s handsome looking. It’s creepy.”

* * *

 

Therese crinkled her nose, regretting it instantly as the motion irritated her newly-formed sunburn. She’d only been at The Morninglight compound for an hour, and she was already regretting accepting Che’s invite. The pamphlets they’d handed her were a little damp with sweat, and the people smiling in the photographs were way too cheery to be out in this heat. Of course, most of the actual Morninglight she’d seen were about as creepily enthusiastic as the pamphlet, so maybe the Kool-aid had some sort of heat regulating properties in it. Either way, she’d decided she’d had enough of the drum circle, Kumbaya spiel about a minute in and found a seat near the back of the open gymnasium where all the new initiates were milling about. Sonnac would probably be telling her to do some information gathering if he could see her but, well, he couldn’t see her so. She’d get to it later.

“You’re Therese, right?” A deep voice asked from behind her, colored around the edges by something from some part of Ireland. Therese turned toward it and was confronted with a tall, gloomy looking man who looked almost as miserable in his long-sleeved shirt as she was. Or maybe he was just miserable in general. He looked like a miserable sort of guy. A miserable, vaguely familiar looking guy “Sorry, I’d heard that you had some sort of…powers…and I wanted to see if it was true.”

Therese frowned.

“I’m gay,” she said, to get it out of the way. He blinked confusedly, then sputtered.

“What? Oh, no, I’m not interested…” His hand reached up to play with the ring on a chain around his neck, “it’s a bit soon for that.”

“Oh. Sorry,” Therese said. Then, because she could never shut her mouth, “divorce?”

“No,” the guy said, looking even more miserable. He pressed his fist to his mouth, eyes welling with tears, “hit and run.”

“Shit. Uh. Sorry again.” Shit. Shit shit shit. This was why she didn’t do the talking. Not for the first time in the past hour, Therese wished that she still had her trio of Illuminati dickwads to handle talking to people. Or, well, one specific member of her trio of Illuminati dickwads.

“No, no, it’s no trouble. Anyway, I just wanted to say hello, on account of introducing myself to someone with superpowers seems like the most interesting thing I’ve done in a while.” He smiled crookedly, and Therese was _very_ sure she was supposed to recognize him, “I’m Ewan. Ewan Mansell.”

 _Definitely_ supposed to recognize him. She reached out and took his hand distractedly, trying to figure out who the Hell he was. He let go after the handshake had gone on for a while longer than it ought to, and when she didn’t say anything else after, he nodded awkwardly to her and moved away.

 _Ewan,_ she mouthed, sounding out the syllables. She was _so_ sure she’d feel like an idiot when she figured it out. _Ewan. Ewan._

“I see you found Shamash,” Inanna’s voice said softly from somewhere off to Therese’s left. Therese very much did _not_ jump in her seat as she turned toward it. Inanna was leaning against a wall, looking just as bewildered as that plot twist made Therese feel.

“Shamash?” Therese whispered back. Wait, Shamash’s real name was… “What the fuck?”

“He told you about his dead wife, right? It’s a real shame. He’s living in a hotel right now because the house was in her name, and her parents hated him so they wouldn’t let him have it. They’re apparently…” Inanna paused then, with air quotes on either side of her head, “WASPs that haven’t gotten the memo that hating Irish Catholics isn’t cool anymore. God, what a melodrama.”

“ _Shamash?_ ” Therese repeated, because really. What the fuck.

“Yeah I _know._ I hate it.” Inanna paused. “I’m still flirting with him, though.”

“Isn’t your cover, like, seventeen?” Gilgamesh asked, suddenly appearing on Therese’s other side. Therese regretted wishing that her Dickwads were here. Inanna smirked.

“That never stopped me when _I_ was seventeen.”

With that, she sauntered off. Gilgamesh stared after her. So did Therese.

“We’re going to die,” Gilgamesh said flatly. “I don’t know how, but we’re going to die forever.”

“ _Shamash?”_ Therese mumbled again. What. The. Fuck.


End file.
